


Parameters

by tempered_rose



Category: Football RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sports RPF
Genre: Angst, Dom/sub Undertones, Euro 2016, Feels, Fluffy Ending, German National Team, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Benedikt/Mats, sad panda - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 07:06:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7424872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tempered_rose/pseuds/tempered_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why? How? What? Where? When? These are the parameters Benedikt tries to investigate as to why Julian isn't happy. He thinks it's because Germany just were knocked out of the Euros. But is it that, or something else?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well this turned out longer than I thought it would. Also heyyyyy I wrote something! D:
> 
> Also. Sad panda. ;-; *hugs for the die Mannschaft and the fans* I hope this is something of a consolation prize?

Julian is more subdued than Benedikt would ever like to see him.

He knows why; God knows Benedikt knows _why_. Of all the parameters of who, what, where, when, why, and how, _why _was never the question.__

__Neither is when. When will be solved when Julian smiles that half-smile of his and his eyes slowly, reluctantly, return to meeting his former captain’s gaze. When will be a matter of moments; whether that is minutes or hours or maybe even days from now. When will be a few moments’ of stolen touches, glances, and kisses later. When will be after a few nights spent together before they have to go their now-separate ways._ _

__Three hours is too long, Benedikt thinks to himself as he watches his Julian lean his head against the window of the bus that takes them far away from the ruins of Marseilles. _Better than another country_ , Benedikt ignores the wayward thought. For now._ _

__When isn’t the problem._ _

__Who is an unfortunately simple, trifle matter. Who is all of them. Who is Bastian. Who is Manuel. Who is Antoine Griezmann and Olivier Giroud. Who is everyone and no one and it doesn’t matter who it was, only that it _was_. Who doesn’t count now that it’s over and it _is_ over, no matter how much all of them wish it weren’t._ _

__Wishes are for children, Benedikt used to believe that when he was a young man and the taller boy with pretty brown eyes and brown hair who had an unfortunate liking for Dortmund broke his heart and their relationship--if it could be called that in the first place--to focus on his career. A wise move, Benedikt had allowed him before cursing Mats’ name behind his back as he went home and cried privately to himself. Wishes became something to believe in again when another boy with prettier brown eyes and dark hair came into his life and admired him with youthful naivety (the same way Benedikt once admired Mats?). Benedikt lets himself wish that things will work out when Julian sighs his name as Benedikt makes him come over and over again._ _

__Who doesn’t matter. Except that it does, it very, very much does when it’s only him, Benedikt, and he, Julian. It matters the most then._ _

__What can only be described as the touch of Julian’s fingers on his arm after they arrive back at the hotel. What is the lingering question that Julian doesn’t verbally ask. What is the way Benedikt barely inclines his head in agreement before they both disappear to their respective hotel rooms. It will only be a matter of time and when isn’t the problem once again. It takes a few moments of silence for both of them before Julian knocks tentatively on Benedikt’s door. What is only the few steps it takes before Benedikt permits his entry and Julian folds himself in his lover’s arms. Thomas is his roommate and mercifully the other boy begged off to go find Bastian in the bar. None of them outright accuse him, but they don’t say it wasn’t his fault when he implies it was. No one but Thomas thinks to comfort him. The pair of them are lost as Julian nuzzles Benedikt’s throat._ _

__He’s not quite there yet, Benedikt notes when Julian refuses to meet his eyes. The moments required for such pleasure have not occurred yet, but this is one of them. He runs his hand lightly down the boy’s back and enjoys the soft tremor that runs across his skin. He can feel it despite the layers of fabric that separate them. Benedikt knows. He always knows._ _

__“I was crap.” Julian says, mumbled into Benedikt’s shoulder like he has to say it but doesn’t want to. He sounds forlorn. Benedikt won’t allow it._ _

__“You weren’t. Bastian was crap. So was I.”_ _

__“You had a few chances. That’s more than I did.” Julian’s loyalty to his former Schalke captain won’t allow for Benedikt to be hard on himself, especially if the younger man feels it’s unwarranted. It’s the only time that Julian looks into his eyes without shyness or upset. It’s fury and protectiveness and Benedikt delights in it, feels his body already responding to it, and he doesn’t use it as a crutch to propel them into the next moment. But he will. Just...not yet._ _

__“Everyone will remember how you tried to keep us in the game, my dear. They are hardly going to remember an attempt at a header by a defender, are they?” Benedikt smiles slightly, knowing his expression is that of a grimace and Julian shakes his head, eyes proudly fierce of him but he settles himself against Benedikt’s chest once again and the moment has passed. Julian needs to be held, comforted, and Benedikt can do that. He’s still not ready to give him one of those heart-squeezing looks that only he can give; Benedikt is a patient man. He can wait._ _

__What has them both sitting on the edge of the bed a few minutes later and Benedikt still lightly running his fingers down Julian’s spine in a comforting manner. Frankly, if this was reversed, he’d be too busy being ticklish to enjoy the movement of hand. Still, Julian finds it pleasing and so Benedikt allows him this._ _

__What has Julian being the first to instigate a kiss that leads to a little more. Benedikt is tired, weary, despite being knocked out, the weight of the world still lingers. They failed. He stops himself there. That will lead to a dark alley that he refuses to drag Julian down into. He’s supposed to be the strong one, and so he will be._ _

__Whatever it is that is between them, dare he call it a relationship?, he enjoys it and knows that Julian does also. It’s not quite a relationship in the traditional sense. Their profiles are too large and everything else is too convoluted with the usual bullshit to make it work that way. Nor are they especially secretive around their teammates. The other men know as they have always known. They also don’t speak of it because why should they? So long as it doesn’t affect their performances… Benedikt lets that thought go. That wasn’t why they lost tonight, but who is to say it wouldn’t happen again in the future? He sighs. There’s that dark alley again._ _

__“What is it, Bene?” Julian’s words are as soft as his lips that brush against the older man’s neck when he says them. Benedikt can’t answer for a moment. That dark, delicious feeling from earlier has returned in his abdomen and despite his being older and tired, he _wants_._ _

__He tells him a partial truth. “I was thinking about us.”_ _

__It must come out wrong, in a negative way somehow, because Julian’s silence is heavy in the heartbeat that follows that statement._ _

__“What are you thinking about ‘us’? In what way?”_ _

__Julian’s thoughts aren’t always clear when he begins to overthink. The thoughts trip over one another and it takes him more words to convey his point than is required. Benedikt has that on his list of traits of Julian’s that he knows. The worse it gets, the more anxious Julian has become about something. If the fidgeting and expressions weren’t already screaming it loud enough, Julian’s words would betray him. Benedikt aims to stop that before it gets started, so he runs a hand down Julian’s arm lightly. More shivers, more perverse delight._ _

__“Just how we are together, Julian. Nothing bad, I promise.” His words don’t entirely soothe the boy. He begins to fidget. The boy’s elbow catches Benedikt in a sensitive place and for a moment he’s torn between pain and being ticklish. He hardens his expression so Julian won’t know, won’t tickle him there. Julian can be quite the menace if he wants to be._ _

__He’s moved around so that he can look Benedikt in the eye if he wants to, but he doesn’t. This isn’t a hiding smile, being coy, or being protective again. He’s nervous and this is the wrong time, wrong place, wrong _day_ to be having this conversation._ _

__“You would tell me, wouldn’t you? If I had displeased you?” Julian won’t look him in the eye and Benedikt almost wishes he would be brave enough to risk it. Julian’s shy, always has been, so he isn’t surprised. That’s one thing he misses about Mats. Mats was direct. A great conjurer of bullshit sometimes, but direct about it. Mats was shy about very, very preciously few things. Few then, fewer now. But those things aren’t Benedikt’s business anymore and they haven’t been for quite a while. It’s not his business and he doesn’t want it to be._ _

__Julian, however, that’s his business._ _

__“You haven’t ‘displeased’ me, to use your word. Yes, I would tell you if I was upset about something.” Benedikt answers quickly enough to lessen his boy’s anxiety. He takes a step further and brushes his lips against Julian’s whose shyness prevents him from responding. Oh, how he wishes the conjurer of bullshit had rubbed off a little on Julian sometimes. If he had, they could have left it there and gotten lost in kisses and touches and not spoken further about the subject._ _

__It’s such a great idea that Benedikt tries it for a few minutes but Julian doesn’t respond. He gives up a moment later and can’t quite suppress the sigh that escapes._ _

__“What is it, Julian? What bothers you?”_ _

__What is a conversation that’s taking too long, Benedikt thinks. It wasn’t why. It wasn’t when or who. Maybe it’s what? It shouldn’t be, but perhaps it is. Benedikt runs through the list in his mind and waits for Julian to answer. He seems to be having a problem searching for his words._ _

__“Sometimes…” Julian starts and trails off, shaking his head like it won’t be the right way to go. Benedikt brushes his fingers along the boy’s wrist like it’s ok. Like he is saying out loud ‘ _it’s all right. The words don’t have to be perfect_ ’. “Sometimes, I think you’re happy I left Schalke. Sometimes I think you are better off. Without me.”_ _

__Benedikt’s eyebrow raises and he tries to place the answers to a new set of parameters. What caused that to be something Julian would consider? How would it have started? Where would he get such a notion from? More importantly, _when_ did that start? Who encouraged it? Most importantly…_ _

__“Why?”_ _

__A simple enough question, if only Julian hadn’t just said what he had._ _

__“Have I given you reason to think that?” Benedikt added, unable to be silent._ _

__Julian shakes his head, pulling away to wrap his arms around his knees. His elbow doesn’t catch Benedikt like it did earlier and Benedikt sits up to watch him. Wait for him. Patience, he tells himself, patience._ _

__“It’s just...I see you with the others. With Mats and sometimes with Manuel, too. I think that you are happier with them. I think you would be happier if I weren’t around, if I wasn’t your responsibility.” He makes a face, almost ashamed that he added the last part, and that’s when he promptly shuts his mouth and stops talking._ _

__Benedikt lets out a breath and runs a hand through his hair and lets out the smallest of laughs._ _

__“If I seem happier around Mats and Manuel it’s only because I only have to see them for a few hours a day anymore and they are my friends.” Because yes, despite everything, the conjurer of shit is still his friend. Damn him. Benedikt can quit his romantic feelings, but he can’t quite cut him out as his friend. It’s been years and he’s tried. But Mats has his moments and Benedikt lets him. “There’s nothing between me and Mats. Not for years, Julian.”_ _

__He nods his head and the Schalke captain adds, “You believe me, don’t you?”_ _

__The question lingers and Benedikt waits for an answer. He thinks he should be offended by how long it takes Julian to answer._ _

__“Yes. I do. I do believe you.”_ _

__Benedikt relaxes slightly; it’s better once the words are out there. But something isn’t right yet. “Why the hesitation?”_ _

__Julian shakes his head. “Not yet.”_ _

__Benedikt thinks at this point Mats would give up out of frustration. The answers to his questions are so nearby, but far away enough to the point where they are out of reach. He would leave, kick something on his way out. But Benedikt is a patient man, always patient with his Julian._ _

__A thought occurs to him and something heavy and unpleasant settles in Benedikt’s stomach._ _

__“Is this why you left Schalke?”_ _

__Julian stiffens. Benedikt stares. “Is it?”_ _

__He doesn’t mean for his voice to go up, he doesn’t. But it does and Julian stiffens more. He doesn’t physically slide away from him, but he may as well have._ _

__“Not all of it.”_ _

__Benedikt swears and gets up, hand going through his hair again and he can’t be on the bed, can’t be so close to Julian. They’ve shifted further apart and he isn’t sure how it’s happened. There’s a lot more than just three hours and a few texts and phone calls a day between them now. A monster lingers that Benedikt didn’t know was under the bed._ _

__“Why didn’t you tell me?” _Maybe ‘why’ is the problem after all…__ _

__Julian blinks and watches Benedikt. He remains silent, waiting to see what will happen. Benedikt won’t raise his voice. He isn’t angry or hurt. Confused, but not the other two. That fact reminds him somewhere in the haze of surprise that he needs to remain calm or he will lose Julian and it won’t be just for a while. The alley that he wanted to avoid has swallowed them both and he is desperately looking for the way out._ _

__“Julian, please. Talk to me.”_ _

__“Please, you talk.” Julian pleas. “Please, just once tell me what I am to you. What this is. Why you would think about our relationship now? After that game of all things!”_ _

__Benedikt can’t quite see the correlation between the two, but as he knows, Julian’s brain is sometimes ahead of his mouth and catching up isn’t quite the important part right now._ _

__“What do you mean to me? _Fuck_ , Julian, I don’t know!” Benedikt lets his arms out and then down so that they smack against his sides. He hasn’t raised his voice but he’s tempted to simply out of the abundance of things he feels; he fights to keep it in check. “I know I miss you at Schalke. I miss when you aren’t there. I notice it because it’s impossible not to. Calls, texts, it’s nice but it’s not the same. I wish you were closer to me.”_ _

__Julian still doesn’t say anything and so Benedikt tries to find the way to tell him the truth. He’s not Mats. He hasn’t read quite so many books to know flowery ways of saying what he feels. He often isn’t pressed into practicing this kind of thing anyway._ _

__“I wish I could say you are everything to me, Julian, but I can’t. I wish I could say that you’re my world and I would die if anything happened to you. But I can’t. I have my family, my football, and I have you. It’s not always in that order, and I’m sorry that this isn’t what you deserve. I can’t give you all of myself entirely, but please don’t think that I wouldn’t if I could. What I can give you, I do and what I can give you is what we have. If it isn’t what you want or if you want to stop, all you have to do is say so and we can. I won’t hold it against you. I will still care for you, because I do, Julian. I care for you a great deal. While you may not be my whole world, my life is brighter because you are in it. I know that. I know that if you weren’t around, I wouldn’t be quite so happy. I’m sorry this isn’t perfect. I’m rambling at this point, I think, but fuck Julian, I don’t know what you want me to say.”_ _

__He sits on the edge of the bed after that and lets out a breath. The next move is Julian’s and he won’t make it for him. Neither of them move for a long time. Benedikt absently wonders how late it has gotten since Julian first came to his room, how much later it will be before he leaves._ _

__He wonders why he left the fate of their relationship in Julian’s hands. He didn’t want it to end tonight. Not the Euros, not this. Would he lose both in the same several-hour-span?_ _

__“I didn’t want to leave you.”_ _

__Julian says so very softly and Benedikt turns to look over his shoulder. He waits. He’s rewarded._ _

__“I didn’t want to go from Schalke. But I wasn’t playing. And you were, you _are_ , so lovely to me and I didn’t want to go. I think it was better, at least for my career, in the end.” He looks apologetic and Benedikt inclines his head as if to say ‘ _yes, it probably was. I miss you too._ ’._ _

__Benedikt lets out a breath he was holding and his voice is almost as quiet as Julian’s was. “Why do you think I would be better off without you?”_ _

__Julian looks shy and won’t meet his eyes. At least he’s looking at him this time, Benedikt thinks, even if his eyes are focused on his chin or his cheek._ _

__“Because you’re the captain. You’re so responsible. You always are checking on me or the younger boys, especially on national team duty, and…”_ _

__The rest of whatever he said was spoken so quickly that it ran together and Benedikt couldn’t make sense of it apart from sounds that were vaguely resembling of words. He shook his head and slid his hand across the bed. Julian was blushing and ignored the outstretched hand._ _

__“Do you wish for this, between us, to be over, Julian?” Benedikt asks outright and waits patiently._ _

__“No.” Julian says, mumbling into his arm that he hides his face behind. “No, it’s the last thing I want.”_ _

__Benedikt nods and pushes his hand forward to latch onto the wrist of his lover to lower his arm from his face. “Look at me.”_ _

__Julian does so. It takes a moment but he does and Benedikt’s eyes are kind as is his smile when he meets Julian’s eyes. Softly, he speaks._ _

__“Don’t confuse my thinking about us as an excuse to feel the frustration of the game we played. Don’t create discord where there is none.” Benedikt shifted to resume his place on the bed and patted the mattress beside him. It’s quicker than Benedikt thought it would be, but Julian tucks himself against the older man’s side once again._ _

__“I’m sorry.” He says and winds his hand in Benedikt’s shirt. “I overthink.”_ _

__“I know.” Benedikt squeezes his arm and kissed Julian’s forehead. “I’m old and tired and you’re delightfully warm. Let’s get some rest.”_ _

__Julian nods slowly and Benedikt wills away the frustration that had built up inside himself. They would need to have a proper sit-down conversation about these concerns but they could wait. They’d just gone through an emotionally draining evening, a conversation about their future together was something that could wait._ _

__The air is still too tense for his liking though, so he adopts a teasing tone that usually works on Julian._ _

__“And darling, if you ever want to have control, all you have to do is ask. I wouldn’t mind following an order or two of yours.” He grins suggestively and the ghost of his desire returns, exponentially when Julian glances up and blushes at the rakish look on Benedikt’s face._ _

__Julian mumbles something else, this time in Benedikt’s shirt again and Benedikt isn’t done teasing. The darkness is quickly evaporating and he likes it when Julian blushes._ _

__“Sorry, darling, what was that? I didn’t quite catch it.”_ _

__Julian smacks his chest, not hard, but enough to feel it. “I like it when you are in control.”_ _

__“ _Oh fuck._ ” Benedikt breathes, unaware if he spoke aloud or not. That’s sexy and he likes it more than he should. He shifts to tip Julian’s face up towards his own and kisses softly, a promise of more to be had later. Julian responds in kind and it deepens as it usually does between them._ _

__Benedikt revisits the parameters. Why was important. It was more important than he thought before but now it’s how. How is he going to make Julian forget the horrible night? Will he kiss him, touch him, tease him, or simply fuck him until he forgets?_ _

__With a grin that only a wolf would understand, Benedikt gently pushes Julian onto his back and prepares to find out._ _


	2. Epilogue

Thomas stops in the hallway just outside his hotel room door and pauses. He blinks, shakes his head, and turns to walk away while pulling out his phone.

A short press of keys later and the phone is ringing in his ear. It takes a minute to answer, a minute too long if you were to ask him, but eventually he hears a voice on the other end of the line.

“What’s the matter, didn’t get enough Miro-time a few minutes ago, love?”

“No, _opa_. Bene and Jule are fucking in the room and I do _not_ want to be party to that, thank you very much.”

Thomas swears he hears Miro’s laugh. He swears it. Then there’s a cough and a ‘yes, well…’ before he trails off into nothing.

“‘Yes, well…’, what?”

“Nothing. Only that I’m sure you and I have given the other members of die Mannschaft quite an unpleasant similar prospect in the past…”

“Well, I’m sorry you thought it was unpleasant. I was quite pleased.”

“ _Thomas_.” Thomas almost hears the ‘please’ at the end. Not an exasperated please either, the pleasing kind. The throaty, desperate, almost desirous kind. Thomas smirks to himself and feels wicked. He almost always feels wicked with Miro.

“What? Just because I don’t want to see two somewhat odd friends of mine engage in their weird dominant-submissive power struggle of a relationship doesn’t mean I’m not happily delighted in the way you and I worked it out.”

“We don’t have a dominant submissive relationship.” Thomas feels the delight strum through his blood at the fact he actually made Miroslav say those words in that order. He suppresses his laughter, for now.

“Don’t we? Then what would you call it?”

“You are an ass and I love you.”

“I didn’t know you were into beastiality, or furries. I didn’t know I was a furry.”

“What is a furry?”

“Don’t Google it. For the love of Franz Beckenbauer, don’t Google it.”

“…okay.” Miroslav sounds hesitant and Thomas waits. One. Two. “Oh for God’s sake! Thomas!”

“I told you not to. It’s not my fault you don’t listen. You’d be a very bad submissive, Opa.”

“You’re an impossible one!” Miro is so easy to get riled up, Thomas loves when he does. So he does all the time. Obviously.

“I wasn’t trying to be submissive. It’s not really my kink. Older men, especially older grumpy men. It’s better if they’re Polish too.”

“Does that make them more attractive or something?”

“Yes, opa. It does. Especially if they’re grumpy old Polish men who played football. For Germany. In Italy.”

“I’m not sure I know too many of those…” Miroslav trails off and Thomas’ wickedness has been sated, so he revels in the softness of his lover’s tone.

“I don’t either. Guess I’ll have to keep looking.” Thomas grins and quickly says an ‘I love you’ before ending the call and knocking on the door in front of him. When no one arrives in a prompt time (read: three seconds), he knocks harder and for a longer time.

The door swings open and one very disheveled, grumpy looking German keeper is in front of him.

“What?”

“Let me in. I’ll behave, I promise.”

Manuel looks very, very skeptical of such a promise but does let him in. He’s learned that if he doesn’t, Thomas is somehow always more annoying than he could ever dream possible. The keeper ignores him and goes back to laying down and staring at the wall. He doesn’t sigh, though he has plenty of times before Thomas’ arrival.

He ignores the dip of the bed as Thomas flops down on it. He ignores the unnecessarily loud sigh of Thomas’ own making. But he doesn’t ignore the way Thomas snuggles him from behind and relaxes against him. A warm, familiar weight against his back.

Manuel rests one hand lightly on Thomas’ and squeezes before closing his eyes. Maybe they’ll both get some sleep now, he thinks and tries to relax.

Right up until Thomas burps in his ear and Manuel scrambles to get away but Thomas is too busy clinging onto him and giggling.

“You’re impossible!”

Thomas smiles and hugs his friend closer. “That’s what Miro says. But you both love me, in different ways.”

Unhappily, Manuel grunts his acknowledgement of that point and closes his eyes again.

Thomas stays close to him over the next few minutes and eventually they do drift off to sleep, peaceful and warm, but most importantly, comfortably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated adding this part, but then I'm like. Na. We need Thomas. And Thomas needs Miro. Because obviously.


End file.
